


Day 6 - Supernatural

by RinYumii



Series: KLance AU Month - February 2019 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: KLance AU Month February 2019, M/M, One prompt a day, Short extract of a longer piece I'm writing, vampire!keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinYumii/pseuds/RinYumii
Summary: October 23rd, just a little over one week to Halloween.Keith comes back from his birthday party he was thrown at a bar, but feels more dizzy than usual after drinking alcohol.He stops in an alleyway for a few minutes to regain some stength, but makes the most unlikely encounter...





	Day 6 - Supernatural

**Author's Note:**

> Heyoo!! Have you slept well? I sure have!  
> So, I started writing this last October, for Keith's birthday and came up with quite a detailed plot in fifteen minutes. Though ideas are quick to develop, the writing process is way longer. You need to have a first draft, and then you edit it, you keep adding stuff, removing any irrelevant sentences, changing some so it flows better, and when you think you have it, you workshop, get feedback and get told you need to edit again. So you do it, you edit, you re-write, and you worksop again. And with all that process, the final product is never truly perfect. Sure, it looks nice and all, it flows nicely at least, but there is always going to be that tiny little mistake that makes it imperfect. And there are plotholes, as well. Lots of plotholes that, despite explaining the meaning of every action taken in the development and writing of the story, will forever be there. But that's fine, that's what fanfics are for! To fix those plotholes!  
> Not that this IS one of them, I was just ranting. Just to say I started writing it last October, left it aside for a few months, got back to it today and re-read what I had written so far. Some paragraphs were to my liking - I even forgot I had written them the way I did, which was cool because they were funny - but I had to add a lot more, and to remove certain parts, and to change the phrasing, and even moved some sentences around for a better flow. And, yes, despite all I went through today to present you this little chunk of fanfic, it's still not perfect. But that's fine, so far I like it that way, and I hope you do too!

The clock had just struck midnight, and Keith was on his way back from partying at the bar. It had been a great evening, probably the best birthday he’d ever had. He had just turned twenty-one. The age of wisdom they said. _The age of stupidity_ , he really thought. Keith walked down the street of houses already decorated for the celebration that would take place the following week. If you could really celebrate dead people. The front yards harboured pumpkins with carved faces, a candle lighting them from the inside. Roofs and porches were covered in fake spiderwebs, and someone had mummified a tree with several rolls of toilet paper. They were all just _so_ creative.

He managed to roll his eyes despite the dizziness he felt, probably because of all the alcohol he had downed. He rocked back and forth, left and right, unsteady on his feet. It felt like the whole world was spinning around, except Keith was the only one spinning. The streets appeared darker as the lights were somewhat dimmer on his side of the pavement, or maybe it was because his eyes were half closed due to his tiredness. He heard cars pass by, families arguing, or laughing, or fucking for all he knew. Good for them.

A group of people passed him by, going the opposite direction, ready to start a party of their own but sounding like they were already having fun. Keith just wanted to go home quickly and find his bed so he could sleep. He was so not looking forward to the hangover and the stupid videos he’d surely find in his phone when he woke up the next day. But he kept walking forward, in a not-so-straight-line despite dragging his hand along the wall on his left. His hair was hurting, his jaw was hurting, more precisely his teeth.

He had to stop a short while after though, as he felt the bile rising up in his throat and threatening to bypass the barrier of his lips- too late. He barely had the time to turn into an even darker alleyway before rejecting the sex-on-the-beach he’d had earlier… as well as some sausage rolls, apparently. Well, at least he wouldn’t need to worry too much about drowning in his own vomit once he reached his room.

Keith rested against the wall for a bit before slowly moving again, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, when the _sweetest_ scent he’d ever smelled arose from somewhere on his right, followed by a loud “Ow!”. He squinted in the dark, the clouds hiding the moonlight not helping him in his attempt to see more clearly, but still managed to make out the shape of a person who was slouched onto the ground. Keith approached the unknown guy - he assumed the person was a guy because of his voice - as he stood back up, noticing the new and probably undesired presence. Keith kept his head lowered, seeing droplets of blood dripping from the guy’s finger onto the concrete. He was bleeding, and Keith found himself staring at the wound with a barely controlled desire. He felt his pulse accelerate, blood boiling in his ears. He licked his lips and felt a sudden thirst, his throat going dry with the simple sight of the cut and the blood dripping from it.

That’s when he realized. It was this guy’s _blood_ Keith had smelled earlier, and he wanted to drink it! What, was he some kind of animal? Keith tried to backtrack, to run away from his impulse, but the guy moved closer, trying to get a sight of the new company, and Keith found it even harder to resist. He was now filled with the desire - the _urge_ \- to have a taste of this red liquid. He was feeling as thirsty as ever, having just regurgitated his night’s meal and drink, and he knew the liquid would taste deliciously sweet.

“Don’t come closer!” he said weakly, his voice so hoarse it hardly sounded like his own.

The other guy took one more step closer to Keith, probably wanting to help him, but Keith was quicker - _too_ quick - and pushed his future victim against the wall, his hand tight around his neck. Keith could feel the other’s blood pulsing against his palm, fast and warm. His other hand reached for the poor guy’s cut finger, and he stared at it with a greedy look in the eyes. He cautiously licked the wound, but it just wasn’t _enough_ to sate his thirst. So, instead of taking the blood from the already open wound, Keith went right at the other guy’s throat, sinking his teeth into the warm and tender flesh. Immediately, blood flooded out of his neck and into Keith’s mouth, and _boy_ was it delicious. Had blood always tasted that good? No, impossible. Something was definitely wrong with him. What kind of monster had he become?

Despite the grim thought, Keith couldn’t stop himself. He was just _so_ thirsty, and this guy’s blood tasted _so_ good. Its warmth spread through Keith’s entire body with every gulp, each new droplet revigorating him. He felt stronger, more aware of the surrounding sounds, more _alive_. He hadn’t realized just how tired he had been until he started drinking some stranger’s blood. Keith let out a groan of satisfaction, and the vibrations of his hoarse voice spread through the other’s body, his voice echoing Keith’s voice in a moan of delight. It was weird to think that the one underneath Keith’s sharp teeth could also enjoy what was happening.

Yet he did, gripping Keith’s jacket with tight fists, and rubbing his growing erection against Keith’s own. He was only now realizing the action of sucking this dude’s blood made him feel horny, so he pressed his crotch closer against the other person’s, sharing their pleasure together. Keith’s hands travelled down the other’s body, caressing the hot skin and the muscles flexed in pleasure. His victim let out a louder moan and unclenched his hands from Keith’s jacket, becoming somewhat limp in his arms. Keith stopped drinking, the sweetness of the air having vanished almost completely, and proceeded to lick around the newly formed wound. He kinda felt sorry for the other guy, who was just there at the wrong time. But he was also thankful for the meal. His hands kept moving on the body, down the chest, around the waist, on the back and up along the arms, and he left trails of kisses on his neck, as a means to heal the deep bite marks. He felt hands on his back too, moving up until they reached his hair. They stayed there for a while before the guy seemed to snap out of his comfortable bubble, trying to push Keith away weakly.

“Keith?!” the voice had come out, shaking ever-so-slightly. Either because he started to feel numb due to Keith’s mouth _still_ being pressed onto his neck, or because that guy _really_ knew him. Holy shit! The realisation came crashing as Keith finally let go to face a stunned Lance looking right at him with big round eyes, cheeks flushed a bright red - so _now_ Keith was able to see properly - and thin tears falling from the corners of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and dying on his lips. Fuck! He hadn’t meant to- to do _what_ exactly? To jump at Lance’s throat and suck the life out of him?! That was for starters. What the hell was wrong with him? A bit longer and he would have _killed_ his classmate! He didn’t think it would be Lance, out of all the people in this godforsaken town! And it’s Lance who had recognised him first. How? Lance clearly couldn’t see properly, given how he was squinting, trying to make out Keith’s features in the dark alley, a weak hand reaching for his face in an attempt to confirm it really was him through touch. All he had done was running a hand through his hair…

“I’m sorry!” was all Keith said, not letting the other boy confirm his identity by saying his name, proving they indeed knew each other. What the fuck was going on?! Not knowing what else to say, and stuttering on his words before he could even think them, Keith ran, panic enveloping him as he was now fully aware of the situation and its repercussions, but unaware of the pair of glowing red eyes watching over him from a distance.

**...**  

Keith ran without turning back, without stopping until he reached his room, locking the door behind him. He ran to the bathroom and checked his reflection in the mirror. He could see himself perfectly. Trails of blood covered his mouth and ran down his chin, staining his neck and the top of his shirt. Was he really a… the word, although obvious, was still hard to use to describe what Keith really was. A vampire. A monster. He had heard legends about vampires, that they burnt under the sunlight, that they were weak against holy water, silver crosses and garlic. That they didn’t have a reflection in the mirror. Yet Keith could see himself perfectly, he loved using garlic in every meal, and his father used to wear a silver cross around his neck when Keith was a kid, and he never reacted badly about it… So what the _fuck_ was going on?!

Although… everybody knew about vampires being nocturnal creatures, and Keith had been able to see clearly in the dark after a while. After he… drank Lance’s blood. Keith suddenly felt sick. He had sucked Lance’s blood until he had almost fainted, possibly even almost died, completely sucked dry. How would he have been able to face his friends if he had been the one responsible for Lance’s death. Hot tears began pouring out of Keith’s eyes, his pupils suddenly burning him. He tried to convince himself it was all just a nightmare, but when he opened his eyes again, their colour had changed from a soft purple to a deep red. The colour of the blood still staining the lower part of his face.

He quickly opened the tap, attempting to wash the red liquid off, but it stuck to his face like a freshly applied plaster. Grunting his frustration, he turned it off and went into the shower instead, not bothering to remove his clothes before hand. They were stained too. Keith scrubbed and scratched, but even once his face was clear of any liquid other than the warm water and his tears, he felt stained. He felt dirty. He was a monster, and he had almost killed his friend. How could he even look at himself after this? Whenever he would see his own shadow, he would be scared of what he was, of what he could do to others because of his wicked nature.

Keith was completely drenched, but he didn’t move to grab a towel and dry his body. He wanted to fall sick so he didn’t have to go to his lectures the next day. He had to move, however, when he heard a knock on his front door. Keith, the _vampire_ , got out of the shower and walked across the house, splashing water all around with every footstep. When he opened the door, no one was there, but whoever had knocked left a letter in front of the door:

_I know your secret. Meet me at the edge of the forest tomorrow, at eleven in the evening. I'll be waiting.  
_ _-L_

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's it for today's prompt, I hope you've enjoyed it. Keith is a vampire, Lance knows his secret, and someone else too! Can you guess who it is? It's probably already obvious, but oh well. Since it's only a small part of a first chapter from a longer piece I'm writing, you'll obviously have more details when I deliver you the full product... beware the wait though.  
> I'll see you tomorrow for Day 7 - Internet Friends.


End file.
